


I'm Not Happy Here

by requestables (orphan_account)



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Memories, Mentions of Suicide, Paul Is Sad, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 15:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19889932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/requestables
Summary: Paul thought too much, not enough, not at all and all the time simultaneously. John is there too.





	I'm Not Happy Here

**Author's Note:**

> comments are appreciated! please comment
> 
> tumblr: @/bittermacca

"I just- I don't want to be here anymore, Johnny- I don't want to."

John is shocked, to say the least, shocked that he didn't realise how down Paul had been - how  _ sad  _ he'd been. He should have realised, should have noticed something - but he didn't, and now Paul was leaning against him on his crappy sofa, sobbing. 

"Why, Paul? You have Linda," He asked dumbly, hoping that mentioning Linda -  _ the lovely Linda -  _ would bring back the light in Paul's beautiful, tear-filled, tired eyes. It didn't, and the younger only cried harder. 

Paul made eye contact with him for a second and then looked away, gulping heavily, "Because- because you don't want me anymore. You don't love me and I  _ can't take it,  _ Johnny. I can't take it!" 

John was at a loss for words suddenly, giving Paul more space to talk more - he felt his heartbeat speed up and hands move in his lap restlessly. 

"And the band- the band is going to be over soon, isn't it? You're all going to leave and make new bands or meet new people you'd rather make music with," The younger's eyes shifted to the floor, where he held his gaze for the better part of a minute. John felt his own eyes fill with tears, but he would  _ not  _ let himself cry -  _ he would not cry.  _

"The band will be over soon, Paul, but we can still all be mates," He replied softly, hand running through his hair and words seeming rushed. He didn't trust himself to speak, knowing that opening his mouth again would just trigger the tears building up in his eyes. He really didn't want to cry, he wanted to be strong for Paul, to be there for him in his time of need, yet somehow he felt that he wasn't there enough. 

"But we won't be, and you'll go off with  _ Yoko  _ and forget about me, forget about what we had," His voice was choked as he spoke, as if he didn't trust his voice either - like he didn't  _ want  _ to cry, but he was. 

"I love her."

"I know, Johnny, I  _ know." _

"I love you, also."

"Don't lie, I know you don't love me. I mean- who would? I'm so…  _ irritating _ , and  _ emotional,  _ and  _ fucking hell _ I hate myself," He replied, chuckling bitterly to himself, thinking about the old day's when him and John would sit and write and laugh for  _ hours, _ they used to be so happy. And then everything fell apart. 

"I'm sorry."

"I know." 

Paul closed his eyes and leaned against him more heavily, sighing deeply, sounding very tired. And he probably was, he barely slept, instead he stayed up at night staring at the ceiling or thinking, because he thought  _ too much  _ and  _ all the time  _ \- he really hated thinking. "It used to be so easy," He whispered, "We would barely argue and- and Brian was there… fuck,  _ Brian,  _ he was- he didn't deserve to die," Paul began sobbing quietly, feeling John's arm wrap around him, "We'd play shows and hang out in hotel rooms, just fucking around, being assholes - and it was  _ so  _ easy."

John, once again, was speechless, choosing to let Paul carry on speaking his mind, speaking his  _ thoughts,  _ the thoughts that he hated so much.  _ Memories _ . 

"And then it got so hard, Johnny. Everything got harder and I hate it, I want to go back… I want to go back," He frowned and turned to look at John, who was still holding back his tears, and kissed him softly on the cheek - something that he hadn't done in a while. "Remember  _ Love Me Do _ ?" He asked, awaiting the older's response. 

"Yes I do, I was stupid back then."

"No, John, it was perfect, it was  _ then  _ and I  _ miss it -  _ it was  _ perfect,"  _ He was rushing his words, though they came out perfectly, no stumbling or stuttering or anything of the sort, just coherent flowing words that hurt John's heart. 

"Love, love me do," Paul began singing quietly, so quiet that John could barely hear him, like he was self-conscious of his  _ voice,  _ his beautiful voice that John wanted to hear more. 

"You know I love you," He could hardly sing this part as his voice cracked multiple times, sounding more high pitched, he sounded truly sad, truly fucking  _ depressed.  _ "So please, love me do."

"I love you, Paul, I do. I never stopped loving you, but I-" 

"Love her more. I know," Paul finished his sentence, knowing exactly what John was going to say. His expression changed to one of pain when he realised that John wasn't going to deny it, that it was true - but it wasn't like it had only dawned on him _ then _ , he'd realised as soon as the two met. 

"Yeah…" John agreed, letting the word hang in the air between them, making Paul want to grab it and crush it. He was too tired. Way too tired. 

"I miss you."

"I'm right here."

"I know. I miss you."

Silence, once more. 

"I love you so much, John, and I'll never stop loving you." Paul said sincerely, really meaning it. He made eye contact with John again, only for the older to break it, looking off elsewhere. Paul didn't understand why he couldn't look at him, why he was refusing to cry or let out his emotions. 

"We've all changed. I hate it." Paul spoke after a minute of silence. 

"Yeah. We grew up, Paul. Get used to it," John didn't mean to sound so harsh, and felt extremely guilty as soon as the words left his mouth, watching as Paul's face adopted a blank expression quickly, eyes drooping even more. 

"I know. I know."

"Do you?" 

"I don't want the band to be over because it's my everything. You're my everything. Making music with you is the best thing I've ever done. I knew as soon as we met that you'd have my heart forever, and you'd never give it back, even if you wanted to."

"That was- that was, God, so long ago," John mused, remembering the day they met, the day they made eye contact and  _ knew -  _ knew that they'd spend most days together for many days to come, but that was over, and John missed it too. 

_ "In spite of all the danger…" _

"Don't, Paul."

"Remember listening to Elvis on the record player and singing along to the lyrics we didn't know?" Paul asked, his hand resting on the side of John's face as he reminiscenced on the past. The past that he missed so  _ dearly.  _

"Yeah, I do. And Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly," He felt himself smile softly, also remembering. 

Everything had changed since then. Everything, including the band, their relationship, the music they made -  _ everything,  _ thinking about it made Paul feel sick. 

Thinking made Paul feel sick. 

"What are you thinking about?" 

"Too much and not enough and everything and nothing," Came Paul's reply, though deeply confusing John, he kind of understood what he meant, subtly - he also thought too much. 

Thinking was a curse, not a blessing. 

Paul hated thinking. 

Paul hated the past, hated the present, hated the future, hated everything, because everything was so much harder and more difficult to deal with - the present made him think about the past and how good it was, and the future made him think about the past, too, and how different it would be to the present and the past. 

The world didn't need him.

And he didn't need the world. 

And he fell into the conversation, getting deeper and deeper into his memories and  _ thinking  _ with John, thinking  _ too much  _ with John, about him - he fell deeper into the void he felt, the gaping void in his heart. 

"I don't want to be here." 

"I know."


End file.
